


Please Get a Bowl

by bluebox_dragon



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: 5 times owen saw his team eating mac n cheese out of the pot, 5+1 Things, Gen, and 1 time owen ate mac n cheese out of the pot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:31:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23107858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebox_dragon/pseuds/bluebox_dragon
Summary: If Owen Strand had a dollar for every time he’d seen a member of his team eat box mac-n-cheese straight out of the pot in the last week, he’d have five dollars.To be fair, two out of the five times the perpetrator was his own son, so possibly the problem was his parenting skills.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 246





	Please Get a Bowl

**Author's Note:**

> This is absolutely unedited.
> 
> I just can't get the idea of the entire team being disaster human beings out of my head.

TK

Since TK had turned 19, Owen had gotten quite used to living on his own. While he loved TK with his entire being, he had gotten quite used to a few key aspects of living alone. He missed quiet evenings, with no Lizzo sing-a-longs; he missed not having to stress about how his son didn’t appear to know how to sit in a chair properly (no, sitting on the back of the couch was not proper seating); he missed having free access to the bathroom, and knowing that the sink would be clean; but above all else he missed having non-dirty dishes.

“TK. Dishwasher.” Owen said, and gave his son a pointed look. He had just gotten off a 24 hour shift, and it didn’t appear that TK had touched a single dish in the entire time Owen had been gone.

“Doctor said no strenuous activity, dad.” TK said, smiling like an angel.

“It wouldn’t be strenuous if you did the dishes more than once a week.” The smile dropped.

“I’m going!” TK said, raising his hands in mock defeat. 

Owen sighed, while TK had made the decision to come back to work, he was still 2 days out from being cleared medically, and going absolutely stir crazy not being able to work. This resulted in lots of experimental cooking, lots of other people coming over to eat (or stare at, if eating was not possible) said concoctions, and not a lot of dishes being done. 

Satisfied with the soft clank of dishes coming from the kitchen, Owen headed upstairs to change into sweatpants and fuzzy socks. He stopped briefly in the bathroom on his way back downstairs, running a hand through his hair in his nightly ritual of checking his hairline, and then descended the stairs.

And stopped.

Walking out of the kitchen, with a wooden spoon in one hand, and a pot of bright orange mac-n-cheese dangling by one handle in the other, was TK.

“Are you kidding me.” He gestured at TK, hoping that his disappointment was evident.

“It’s organic.”

“That is not even my third issue with this.” Owen ran a hand over his face. “Why aren’t you using a bowl?”

“Oh! Yeah, uh, all of the bowls are in the dishwasher.” TK said, before putting the wooden spoon in his mouth and grabbing his bottled water, making his was towards the couch.

“Lub ‘oo.” TK said as he passed him. Owen thought that meant ‘love you’ but he couldn’t be certain, because TK still had the wooden spoon in his mouth.

MARJAN

Owen knew that the group in front of him was made up of literal adults, but he was fairly certain that he had also seen this exact scenario in his kitchen 20 years prior, when TK was in 1st grade. 

Marjan was standing next to the dining table, one foot on a chair, and a pot raised to her mouth as she shoveled whatever the contents was into her mouth. On her left, TK and Judd were cheering her on. On her right, Paul was holding a trashcan underneath Marjan, presumably to catch anything that didn’t make it in her mouth, but Marjan didn’t seem to be spilling anything at all. Mateo was standing directly in front of her, holding a stopwatch and counting down from 10.

“7… 6… 5… YES!” Mateo stopped counting and whooped as Marjan slammed the pot down on the table and raised her arms in victory. TK jumped up and down in delight and held his hand out to Judd, who deposited five dollars into it. 

If the team was betting on it, it had to be a pretty big deal. Either that, or the silliest competition Owen had ever heard of. 

“Do I want to know what happened?” Owen asks, looking from TK to Marjan. As the two likeliest candidates for trouble, he figured they should be the first to get interrogated. 

“I’m the champion!” Marjan yelled, and grinned widely at Owen.

“The champion of what, exactly?” Owen did not actually want to know at this point, but he also knew his team, and figured he should be aware.

“She got the fastest time for eatin’ an entire box of mac-n-cheese. Knocked the reignin’ champ out by 5 seconds, Cap.” Judd answered. 

So it had been the second option. Stupid competitive kids. 

“I am…” He trailed off, trying to find the words, “So glad you guys are getting paid for this.” He finished dryly. 

“Isn’t it great?” Mateo exclaimed.

“I was being facetious.” He fixed a stern glare on Mateo, and then moved his attention back to Marjan, who was still preening at her victory, obviously feeling very accomplished.

“You have mac-n-cheese on your uniform.” He said, gesturing to her collar. 

“Lies and slander!” Marjan laughed, but pulled out her phone to check in the camera.

Stupid competitive kids, and their inability to keep their uniforms clean.

PAUL + TK

Sometimes, Owen needed to remember that everyone in his firehouse getting along and being comfortable with each other was a good thing. Most of the time he knew this for fact. But sometimes, he walked into arguments that made him want to send his entire team back to kindergarten.

“I swear to god, Paul. The metal adds something!” TK yelled. 

“Take an iron pill TK! It adds nothing.” Paul yelled back, then paused. “Actually wait, gimme the pot again.”

Owen watched, with slight horror, as the one person on the team that he had counted on to be sane this week, grabs the extended pot of mac-n-cheese. Paul grabbed his spoon out of the bowl on the table and scooped up a mouthful, then paused.

“Grab me a piece of bread.” Paul told TK.

“Why? Please don’t tell me you put mac-n-cheese on bread.” TK had the audacity to look disgusted, as if he didn’t commit food related atrocities daily. 

“Gross. No. I need a palette cleanser between bowl mac-n-cheese and the pot mac-n-cheese.” Paul said. Owen supposed that he should just be happy that they were employing some sort of scientific method to the madness that unfurled before him. 

At this point, Owen was slightly curious about what the results of their little experiment would be, so he leaned against the wall by the stairs, and watched as Paul ate a bite of bowl mac-n-cheese. He chewed. He swallowed. He made a slight face. He took a delicate bite of bread. Then he moved on to the pot of mac-n-cheese, and repeated the process.

“So?” TK asked, impatient for Paul’s expert opinion.

“So, you’re crazy.” Paul gestured between the bowl and the pot, “It’s the same thing, TK.”

“Nuh uh.” TK said, and moved closer to Paul, squaring up his shoulders.

“Uh huh.” Paul responded, mirroring TK’s posture.

Owen decided that this was the point to get out of the kitchen, before he was forced to take disciplinary action against his employees, or ground his grown-ass son.

MATEO 

To be quite fair, it really wasn’t Mateo’s fault. Or, at least the mac-n-cheese part wasn’t Mateo’s fault. 

“Probie.” Half greeting, half question.

“Cap! I can actually explain.” Mateo says, at least he seemed to know eating mac-n-cheese out of the pot with chopsticks was a crime. “I swear, it’s not actually as bad as it looks.”

“Well, it looks to me like you’re eating mac-n-cheese with chopsticks. Out of the pan. Please find an excuse for that.” Owen said, and moved over to the fridge to grab the soymilk. He heard Mateo let out a breath behind him.

“Oh. Well, I didn’t actually mean to. But Marjan took all of the bowls to set up an obstacle course for Buttercup, and so now I can’t use them.” Mateo said in a rushed explanations. 

Owen rubbed at his eyes, his firehouse was filled with children. The only person who hadn’t succumbed to multitasking pots and bowls besides himself was Judd, and with the way things were going, he didn’t have much faith, but at least Mateo had an excuse. Then he remembered the other offense Mateo had committed.

“And the chopsticks?”

“TK took all of the forks, and spoons, not entirely sure why. Judd looked pissed about it, so I decided not to get in the middle of that.” Mateo pointed towards the upstairs with his chopsticks, which just gave Owen another thing to look into after he found Mateo some appropriate silverware. 

He rummaged through the take-out menu drawer, and came up triumphant with a plastic wrapped set of clear utensils. He tossed the pack to Mateo, and turned to head upstairs.

Then something hit him.

“Probie. You didn’t say ‘I can explain’ about the mac-n-cheese, did you…” Owen said.

“Ok! So I actually really can explain!” Mateo stumbled out, looking frantically between Owen and the espresso machine. 

Again. Really?

OWEN

If Owen Strand had a dollar for every time he’d seen a member of his team eat box mac-n-cheese straight out of the pot in the last week, he’d have five dollars. 

To be fair, two out of the five times the perpetrator was his own son, so possibly the problem was his parenting skills. He contemplated where he possibly could have gone wrong while putting groceries away in the firehouse cabinets. 

While looking for a place to store the unnecessarily large box of Ritz crackers that Paul had put in the grocery cart while Owen hadn’t been looking, he opened a cupboard near the back of the kitchen that he didn’t actually think he had been in before. 

“Really?” He whispered to himself. The entire cabinet was filled with box mac-n-cheese. There were at least six different varieties of the stuff. He wasn’t even sure when anybody had bought the mac-n-cheese, it hadn’t been on any house shopping trips, which meant that people had brought it in on their own. 

His horror at the state of his teams diets was interrupted by the sound of his entire team piling into the kitchen behind him, voices raised in some sort of discussion.

“Would someone like to explain why we have six different varieties of mac-n-cheese?” Owen asked. Mateo whirled around from where he was talking excitedly to Judd, and pointed at the cabinet.

“Variety! The purple organic stuff is TK’s. The orange box is Paul’s. The small blue box is Judd’s, and the big blue box is Marjan’s, because the other mac-n-cheese is harambe.” Mateo explained, pointing to each person.

“Haram, Mateo… Harambe’s a dead gorilla.” Marjan said, and reached past Owen to grab said box. The rest of the team formed a line after her, and all grabbed their own box of mac-n-cheese from the cabinet. Judd pulled four pots out from beneath the sink and began boiling water in all of them. 

“Are you all eating that stuff for dinner?” Owen asked in disgust. 

“Yup, it’s on the meal schedule, you can check. You can have some of mine dad, it’s organic.” TK replied, tossing a purple box to Owen. Then TK crossed to the cabinets and pulled down a stack of bowls.

“Hey, uh. We only have four bowls.” TK said, then made eye contact with Paul and yelled, “DIBS!” Before Owen could even react, the rest of the team had yelled dibs back, and then turned to stare at him. 

“Why do I feel like I just drew the short stick?” Owen looked warily from person to person. 

“Hey, it’s ok Cap. You can just eat your mac-n-cheese out of the pot.” Marjan said, patting his shoulder. Owen sighed heavily. 

What the hell had his life come to. 

But then again, he wouldn’t change it for anything.


End file.
